


UGH!

by WalkOnThroughARedParade



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Lotsa Feelins, M/M, Making Out, Mentions of backstory that may never get explained in detail we'll see, Riding, Seijuro is emotionally constipated, Semi-Public Sex (Mentioned), Yakuza AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 00:04:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12875928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WalkOnThroughARedParade/pseuds/WalkOnThroughARedParade
Summary: '“Have you decided what it is you want?”It was traditional, for wives and mistresses of Yakuza to get tattoos of their own, to display their loyalty and commitment. Tetsuya was neither, was something nameless and infinitely more important; but he had asked.Seijuro had had an artist on hold for a couple of weeks, now, waiting for Tetsuya to decide just what it was he wanted.'Alternatively: Akashi Seijuro is Bad at Feelings. Kuroko Tetsuya is Patient.





	UGH!

A whisper-soft, sweet little moan spilled from Tetsuya’s lips as Seijuro pressed him harder against the frame of his front door; and the red head swallowed the triumphant smirk that wanted to slip across his face in favour of pressing his mouth against the pale, tempting arch of his throat, intent on fixing the lack of violet love bites.

He shifted the thigh pushed between Tetsuya’s ever so slightly, massaging at where the slightly smaller man was hard in his jeans, and was rewarded with a gasp, before Tetsuya removed one of his hands from where he’d been clutching at Seijuro’s shoulders  _ oh so desperately _ to instead scramble for the handle to his door, finishing the process of letting them both into his apartment where Seijuro had cornered him once the lock had clicked open.

Seijuro had worked tirelessly, for  _ months _ , to reach a place where the pretty, supple body pressed against his melted against him like this, to make Tetsuya trust him to the point that he would allow himself to be kissed to distraction outside the confines of his own home. The rewards were obvious and  _ delicious _ \- Seijuro had no qualms when it came to staking his claim on the other man - but he never got tired of them, of each gasp and moan and murmured  _ please _ when he kept his blue eyed lover pressed to the doorframe, rather than taking him inside and ravishing him the way he so obviously wanted.

It was, perhaps, a little cruel. Seijuro had been going out of his way to tease him all night, letting his hand linger high on Tetsuya’s thigh during dinner, slipping his fingers under the back of his shirt to caress the soft, unmarked skin at the small of his back. 

Midway through the meal Seijuro had ‘borrowed’ Tetsuya from the table and cornered him in the restroom, had pressed him up against the sinks and kissed him until he was panting, eyes lidded and hazy, fingers fisted in the front of Seijuro’s shirt. Seijuro had slipped his hands down the back of his jeans, into his underwear, squeezing his ass cheeks so he moaned, low and loud with his head tipped back; and had then lead him back to the table, conscious of how those lovely blue eyes had been stuck on him, confused and frustrated.

Continuing to draw it out was, perhaps, a little  _ too _ cruel, with a bed so near.

Tetsuya arched his hips, grinding against Seijuro’s thigh while he stared up at him through lidded, hazy eyes, dark with arousal and  _ demanding _ in a way that made a shiver creep up Seijuro’s spine.

It occurred to him that they might not even make it to the bed.

Seijuro dropped his leg - and relished the way Tetsuya whined at the loss of friction, soft and displeased - before guiding him into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind them and then immediately pressing his lover back against the door, claiming Tetsuya’s lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss.

Tetsuya sighed against him, eagerly opening his mouth to grant Seijuro’s tongue access, and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s shoulders, clinging tightly to him.

Seijuro caught Tetsuya’s bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it lightly; and relished the gasp when he finally finished unfastening Tetsuya’s jeans, and shoved them and his underwear down off his hips, so his cock bobbed obscenely in the space between them, the head shiny with precome.

“A-Akashi-kun…?” Tetsuya’s voice was soft, trembling with arousal but still managing to come across as only politely puzzled; and Seijuro purred a little, ducking his head to nip gently at the corner of his jaw before he spoke against the shell of his ear, drawing a delicious shiver out of him.

“Use my given name, Tetsuya.” 

Tetsuya made a soft noise, wordless and desperate, and when Seijuro pulled back enough to look him in the face his lovely eyes were squeezed shut. The taller man tutted soft under his breath, displeased, before reaching into the breast pocket his jacket and retrieving the clear little bottle stowed there.

He had, before dinner, been intending to fuck Tetsuya in that restroom; to bend him over the sinks and make the men they'd been dining with wait while his pretty lover stuffed his own fingers in his mouth to stop himself sobbing Seijuro’s name too loudly. They'd done so before - though when less prepared, the fucking more an impulse born of boredom and facilitated by spit-slick fingers and Seijuro burying his face in that pert, gorgeous ass. Tetsuya had gasped about the resulting ache into Seijuro’s ear when they'd gone for another round once back in Seijuro’s apartment, his unexpected and  _ delightful _ somnophilia making him a little more eager, a little more shameless while spread out under Seijuro… - but tonight had gone differently.

Seijuro hadn’t wanted to be away from the table that long, not with how important the negotiations they'd been participating in had been. And riling Tetsuya up had come with its own kind of pleasure.

The rewards of which he fully intended to reap now.

Seijuro didn't bother warming the lube he poured across his fingers before dropping them to slip between Tetsuya’s ass cheeks, the liquid already lukewarm from being stowed against his chest all evening. The slide of his first finger was practiced, easy; and Seijuro chuckled against Tetsuya’s throat while the other man gasped, rocking his hips back against Seijuro’s hand.

“Did you touch yourself today, Tetsuya? Or has all that wine you were drinking at dinner made you a little more...ah,  _ relaxed _ , than usual?” He eased a second finger inside Tetsuya as he spoke, relished the moan it eased out of him, and smirked down at him when Tetsuya tipped his head back to rest against the door. His knees were trembling a little, and he clung to Seijuro’s shoulders as the redhead started to move his fingers, scissoring them and starting to thrust them in and out of the tight, slick heat of Tetsuya’s hole.

It was tempting to turn him around, to release himself from the confines of his suit trousers where every noise that slipped from Tetsuya’s lips only made him harder, and fuck him against the door, fuck into him until he screamed Seijuro’s name when he came all over himself.

Just as he was considering it, though, Tetsuya’s hands shifted, one moving to curl in the hair at the back of Seijuro’s head while he draped the other arm over his shoulder, and he pressed himself up against him, lips ghosting across his cheek before he murmured into his ear.

“I want you to make me come, Seijuro. And then I want you to fuck me on my living room floor. I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think straight, and make up for being such a  _ fucking tease _ all night.”

Seijuro pressed his fingers deeper inside Tetsuya’s hole, fingertips dragging over his prostate so he cried out quietly; and he sank his teeth into the soft, pale skin of his throat, sucking hard to leave a sensitive, purple-black love bite on his skin.

Tetsuya rarely turned so vulgar, but it never failed to arouse Seijuro. To hear his pretty, near virginial-looking lover make such filthy demands…

Seijuro tore open the front of Tetsuya’s shirt with the hand not buried three knuckles deep inside him, enjoying the sounds of threads tearing and buttons ricocheting off the floor as they were torn free, before he wrapped his fingers around Tetsuya’s cock and started to stroke him in time with each thrust of his fingers inside him, slicking his own precome over his cock with each leisurely, tormenting stroke.

“I'll do whatever the fuck I want with you,” he purred against Tetsuya’s cheek, the other man panting softly and keening when Seijuro dragged his thumb over the head of his cock, massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him at the same time, “because you're  _ mine _ , Tetsuya. I'll fuck you like the cock-hungry slut you are, or I'll eat your pretty little ass and then spank you until you're sobbing and  _ begging _ me to put my cock inside you, or I'll have you ride me until your thighs ache; but I'll decide what I do with you. And you'll take it, because you're a desperate, needy slut, and because you  _ love it _ , and because you  _ belong. To me. _ ” 

Seijuro growled the last words, driving his fingers as deep inside Tetsuya as they'd go while he dragged his thumb over the head of his cock, pressing firm little circles into the sensitive spot on the underside; and Tetsuya gasped and shuddered against him before coming across his fingers, murmuring Seijuro’s name against his shoulder as he trembled through his orgasm.

It was a little surprising, that he’d come so quickly - even after being teased for so long Tetsuya had lasted well over an hour of  _ actually _ having something buried inside him when he’d been told not to come until he had permission, in the past. He had the most astounding self control Seijuro had ever seen, apart from his own - but a post-orgasm Tetsuya was, as ever, one of the loveliest things to have caught in your arms; and Seijuro chuckled softly at the whine of protest that escaped his lover as he eased his fingers out of him.

Tetsuya allowed himself to be stripped without protest, slowly coming back to himself as Seijuro pressed kisses to his cheeks and his nose and the swell of his bottom lip, until he could return the kiss the redhead pressed to his mouth eagerly, clutching at either side of his face and sighing into his mouth.

He stepped out of his shoes, out of his jeans and boxers where Seijuro had pushed both to his ankles; and let out a soft, surprised little breath when Seijuro lifted him onto his hips, so he could wrap his legs around the redhead’s waist, only to moan quietly and tip his head back when Seijuro took the opportunity to press his mouth to the pale, soft skin of his chest, kissing across his collarbones and then flicking his tongue lightly over one of his nipples.

Seijuro ran a hand down his spine as he lavished Tetsuya’s chest with his attention, until his nipples were hard and he was arching into his touch, breathing heavily above him, and Tetsuya whimpered softly, arching his hips against Seijuro, leaning back against the door to give himself a little extra leverage.

“Seijuro,” he murmured quietly, eyes lidded while he clung to Seijuro’s shoulders and tried again to arch against him and steal some kind of friction against his rapidly-hardening cock, or his wet, open hole. There was something impossibly sexy about each shift of his hips; about his contradiction of a body, slim and pale and all sharp lines and edges at his chest and shoulders and bird-bone thin wrists, where when Seijuro’s eyes reached his lovely hips, the full swell of his pretty ass and those wonderful, lush thighs squeezing around his waist, he turned to soft curves and warm flesh begging to be covered in bruises and worshiped by Seijuro’s mouth.

The first time Seijuro had ever seen him - caught with a soft, warm smile on his face in a candid photo, pretty fingers tucking back a lock of his own hair while he glanced back over his shoulder to address whoever he’d been walking with - he’d been so lovely to look at. Delicate and breakable; and Seijuro had relished the idea of breaking him, of spreading him out underneath him and making him belong to him  _ entirely _ until he was ruined for anyone else, and the perfect leverage to use against the father Tetsuya had never met at that time.

‘Pretty’ was too provincial a word to describe him. His beautiful body, those lovely eyes and the wealth of emotion they displayed for anyone who bothered to learn how to read them, the wickedly clever mind hidden behind them…

It had taken a long time for Seijuro to stop seeing Tetsuya as leverage, as a tool. It had stopped mattering so much quickly enough, but the knowledge that it was what he  _ was _ , that it was his purpose, the entire reason Seijuro had gone out of his way to form a relationship with him, had lingered in the back of his mind for a very long time.

This boy, though, this intelligent, stunning young man was no tool. He would not allow himself to be used, and Seijuro would put an end to anyone who tried. Inside and out, he was...he was…..

“Gorgeous,” Seijuro murmured, pressing in to kiss Tetsuya softly. Tetsuya hummed into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Seijuro’s neck, completely ignorant to the sentimental thoughts that had been running through Seijuro’s mind; and let out a soft, surprised huff of laughter when the other man lifted him more securely into his arms, carrying him toward his sofa.

“You asked me to fuck you on your living room floor, didn’t you?” Seijuro reminded him of his earlier words, at which Tetsuya’s breath hitched audibly; before Seijuro dropped to his knees unceremoniously, and laid Tetsuya back on the plush rug covering the otherwise wood-panelled floor.

It really was a hideous thing, bright pink and made entirely of soft yarn pom poms of different sizes, and had been a gift from Satsuki.

The idea of defiling Tetsuya on it gave Seijuro a deep, deep sense of satisfaction. 

He shrugged out of his jacket, discarding it behind him before he yanked off his tie and then started to work on his shirt, enjoying the way Tetsuya was still panting beneath him as he undressed; before going still, a little confused, when the other man pushed up to sitting.

The confusion faded a little when Tetsuya pushed his shirt back off his shoulders, and then moved his hands instead to run over Seijuro’s chest, fingertips running lightly over the tattoos covering the skin.

He pressed his lips softly to the black dragon whose head rested over Seijuro’s heart, hummed when the redhead ran his fingers through his hair; and Seijuro felt the smile that spread across his face when he spoke down at him.

“Why do you always insist upon doing that?” He asked quietly, the moment feeling charged. Tetsuya peered up at him, watching him from beneath desperately pale eyelashes, before he straightened enough to straddle Seijuro’s hips, and moved his hands to the front of his trousers.

“Should I not show gratitude to the ones that protect you when you're away from me? That would be rude, Seijuro.”

Seijuro chuckled softly, running his hands up Tetsuya’s sides while the smaller man got his trousers open, pushed them and his underwear off his hips so his cock was free, before he settled a hand at the smooth, unblemished skin between Tetsuya’s shoulder blades, running his thumb over his spine gently.

“Have you decided what it is you want?”

It was traditional, for wives and mistresses of Yakuza to get tattoos of their own, to display their loyalty and commitment. Tetsuya was neither, was something nameless and infinitely more important; but he had asked.

Seijuro had had an artist on hold for a couple of weeks, now, waiting for Tetsuya to decide just what it was he wanted.

Tetsuya looked down at him, eyes soft and thoughtful; before he circled his fingers around Seijuro’s cock.

“Koi,” he stated, tone decisive even as his free hand closed on Seijuro’s shoulder, where a grey and gold fish of his own was inked permanently into the skin; and Seijuro groaned softly as Tetsuya sank onto his cock, gripping his hips tightly and burying his face in the side of his neck. 

For a long moment, Tetsuya didn't move, head tipped back, panting softly into the air as he adjusted to the stretch of Seijuro’s cock buried inside him. Seijuro kissed across his shoulder sloppily, running his hands down either side of his spine, cupping his ass and squeezing so he made a soft, eager noise.

“Blue and gold,” he murmured, soft against his throat. “I'll tell the artist to make it blue and gold.”

He moved to press his lips to the hollow of Tetsuya’s shoulder even as his right hand moved unerringly to the soft flesh above his hip, finding each smooth, pink bullet wound scar and lavishing both with affection; and Tetsuya slowly started to move, rocking his hips gently, lifting himself almost completely off Seijuro’s cock and then dropping down again, taking him all the way to the hilt.

The rhythm of it was easy and familiar, slow but hard, deep as he could get in the lovely warmth of the blue eyed young man in his arms, and when Tetsuya’s thighs started to tremble from the effort of riding him Seijuro gladly picked up the slack, thrusting up into him and relishing every low, desperate moan it earned him.

His patience was not infinite. Out of everyone who'd ever sat on his cock, had the  _ privilege  _ of sharing his bed, even for just a night, Tetsuya was the best. He rode him like he'd been made for it, hole fluttering around his cock, gorgeous as he worked himself on it. But nights like this, where things felt weighted and important, and the fact that Tetsuya  _ meant something _ to him was as inescapable as the memory of when he'd stopping being a tool to be used to break his father….on nights like this, Tetsuya liked to take things slow.

When he'd left him, the night before he'd ridden Seijuro like this, tears still on his face even as he'd cried out Seijuro’s name when he'd come.

The memory of his empty bed that morning still haunted Seijuro at night, sometimes.

He pushed Tetsuya back down on the rug, ignoring Tetsuya’s murmur of displeasure when he slipped out of him, before sliding back inside, pinning his hands down either side of his head as he started to fuck him, as hard and as deep as he could.

Tetsuya was his, would always be his, would have his ownership permanently inked onto his skin soon enough.

He'd never leave him again.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Tetsuya murmured, breath hitching with each thrust, thighs spread around Seijuro’s hips to take him as deep as possible, and he moaned loudly into the kiss Seijuro pressed to his mouth, undeterred by the attempt to shut him up.

“I love you,” he keened,  _ sobbed _ , rolling into the next thrust and then sobbing his name as his orgasm hit, white spilling across his belly and chest for the second time; and Seijuro fucked into him three, four, five more times before he followed after, coming inside him and burying his face in the side of Tetsuya’s throat as he did so to muffle his low groan.

For a moment they stayed like that, Seijuro stretched out on top of Tetsuya, cock softening inside him while he pressed soft kisses to his chest and shoulders; and Tetsuya sighed softly, hands moving to caress his spine now they were free again.

“You know I'll never leave you unless you give me a reason to, Seijuro. You don't need to worry that every time I want you to make love to me it's because I intend to disappear.”

His voice was gentle but still firm, and Seijuro lifted his head enough to study his face, and see the softness there.

“You left me before. I've not yet forgotten.” Seijuro didn't mean for it to be accusing, but he saw how it had been taken even before Tetsuya wriggled out from underneath him, shifting away and pulling his bare legs up to his chest to hug them tightly.

“I'd just found out you'd been using me for months in an effort to hurt my father, Seijuro. I had every reason to believe everything you'd ever said to me was a lie; that all I was to you was a tool with the added bonus of being pretty enough that you could stand to fuck me when there wasn't a better option nearby.” The reminder of what Tetsuya had thought of him, how hurt he'd been, had instinctual anger rising in his chest; at Kise for telling him all those months ago, at Tetsuya for bringing it up now, at Nakamura Hiro for driving him to a place where he'd ever considered using his lovely, innocent son against him in the first place-

But he stifled it.

He closed the distance Tetsuya had put between them, and took his face in his hands, kissing him softly before coaxing him into curling up against his chest while he wrapped his arms around him.

“I'll never apologise for those decisions again. I already have, several times, and I'd make the same choices all over again to reach this place with you. But I don't mean to hurt you now, Tetsuya. I only…” It was hard to explain the insecurity he felt, and he let out a sharp, frustrated breath, before glancing down at Tetsuya when he felt him run his fingertips over his chest, tracing the cherry blossoms inked on his skin.

“I love you, Seijuro,” he murmured, finally glancing up at him, “And you forget that after I left, I came back. I will never belong to anyone else; you are all there is for me. You ruined me in the most wonderful way, and I will love you for it forever.”

He pressed his lips to the dragon slumbering over Seijuro’s heart again; and Seijuro’s breath caught in his throat, chest aching a little while his lover peered up at him again.

“I will wait for you to trust me again. It seems only fair, after I made you wait for me while I did the same.”

Seijuro let out a soft, slightly surprised little laugh, and ran his fingers through Tetsuya’s hair, enjoying how he leant into the touch.

All his life he'd been sure just what he deserved, which had, he'd believed, been everything. But not this.

This was fragile as a hummingbird trapped in his hands, and he'd done nothing at all to deserve it. Not the trust, or the young man who had so easily given it back to him, nor the grace and understanding he was offering now.

Greed had always been a vice of Seijuro’s, however.

“Would you like a bath, baby?” He asked, caressing Tetsuya’s cheek with his thumb.

The tiny, impossibly warm smile made Seijuro’s heart thump painfully in his chest; and when Tetsuya nodded, he smiled back at him, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

**Author's Note:**

> WELL.
> 
> I have vague hopes of more in this AU - originally it was going to be a Long Fic but linear writing is hard - but don't get your hopes up.
> 
> Title is the name of the song by The 1975 that I listened to on loop while I finished this off.
> 
> Please, for the love of god, leave a comment.


End file.
